


It's what my rotting bones will sing

by Patchwork_Quilt



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Not Really Character Death, he doesn’t stay dead, nonhuman jaskier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patchwork_Quilt/pseuds/Patchwork_Quilt
Summary: Jaskier dies, he’s cold in Geralt’s warm arms.Or so Geralt thought
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1: Dead bards tell no tales

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy! Chapter 1 is short, but there will be more

Geralt smelled the blood before he saw it. They were being chased out of town by an angry mob, pitch forks, torches; the usual. Until it wasn’t the usual. 

Jaskier was on Roach, and Geralt was about to climb on behind him, until Jaskier was jumping down, pushing Geralt to the side away from Roach, and then fell to the ground with a whimper. A pitchfork was square in Jaskier’s chest. 

Geralt pulled the pitchfork out of his lover’s chest and carried him onto Roach, racing off to the safety of the woods. 

  
  


Jaskier gasped, whimpering as he looked up at the witcher, his eyes filled with fear, sadness, and love. Tears rolled down his face as his shirt got more soaked in blood,  _ his own blood _ . He coughed, and finally finding his words, he spoke in a quiet broken voice;

"It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you.” 

His beautiful cornflower blue eyes grew glassy and foggy, as the brightness faded from them, and his breathing stopped. 

~~

Geralt sighed, looking at the patch of raised dirt. It wasn’t good enough. This isn’t the place a Viscount, a bard, a lover, a best friend,  _ Jaskier _ should be buried, but it was the best he could do. Iif he had a choice, he would have buried him somewhere at the coast, or maybe in Oxenfurt,. Certainly not this forest clearing, but one can’t carry a dead body that far, and he had to bury Jaskier sooner rather than later. 

He sank to his knees, and let tears escape his eyes, his calm and strong hands shaking as he placed a bouquet of flowers on the raised earth. Buttercups, dandelions, and forget-me-nots.

He closed his eyes only to see the memory of two nights ago when they had laid in their shared bed roll holding each other, right in this exact spot. 

He always knew that Jaskier was going to die before he himself did, but he didn’t expect it to be so soon, to be because of Geralt. It was his fault Jaksier was dead. No reason denying it, he had jumped in front of the pitchfork that was meant for Geralt. Stupid dead bard. He would still be here if he didn’t take that hit. They would be in each other's arms right now! It wasn’t fair. 

Geralt cried, laying next to Jaskier’s grave. He wanted to sleep next to his love one last time. Sleep didn’t come easy to him that night: the bed roll smelled like Jaskier. He woke up the same way he fell asleep, in tears. He packed up his small camp, and hopped onto Roach. He couldn’t think about going to the next town to take a contract, to stay at an inn—he didn’t want to go somewhere where Jaskier wasn’t. So he was going home. He needed to go home. Vesemir wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t mock him for his current state.


	2. The dead can walk, and the gods can sing-Chapter2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit short but! Enjoyable I hope!!
> 
> I’m so sorry for the emotional difference between the first chapter and this one

Waking up with dirt in your eyes, nose, mouth, and ears is a horrible experience. Jaskier would like it never to happen again. 

He pushed up at the dirt ceiling above him, more dirt fell on his face, but he could see the sunlight now, and he could free his trapped body. 

His first thoughts as he looked around the forest clearing was “Where’s Geralt?” And then “who buried me alive?” And then finally after looking down at his chest;three holes in his chemise, which was soaked in blood. He finally thought “oh shit I died.” And then “OH SHIT I DIED??!!” 

He stood up, and then fell right back down on his ass. 

“Coming back for the dead takes a lot out of you, even if you are a minor god.” Jaskier thought out loud, as soon as he said that he remembered, “oh shit I’m a minor god.” Smacking himself on the head for forgetting something so important. 

“Okay, okay.” He mutters looking down and his ruined clothing, he sighs. Normally he would just create new garments, but he needed to save his energy. He had to find Geralt. 

~~

Knowing Geralt as well as Jaskier did, he knew where Geralt would have gone. He would have headed for home, Kaer Morhen. Jaskier had yet to be invited to the keep, but he has a good sense of where it was. He was no sorcerer, true. But when had he ever needed to be? He didn’t need their fancy vomit inducing portals to get from one place to the next. And from what  _ little  _ details he’s been able to pull from Geralt, portals wouldn’t work at the keep anyways. 

He would simply will himself to the Keep. There was no way to tell how long he had been out for (5 days.) or how far Geralt was from the keep at this point (Geralt was one week away from Kaer Morhen). But Arriving early or late never hurt anyone. So with a spring in his step, he took a running start and jumped into a tree, disappearing in a shower of blue sparks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed please leave a kudos and a comment!!  
> And as always I’m Patchwork-Doublet on tumblr, I’m also Patchwork-Quilts on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> He won’t stay dead! Stay tuned for chapter 2


End file.
